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I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. – Thoreau

Henry David Thoreau was an American philosopher and naturalist. He broke away from society, went out in nature, built his own house, and grew a garden to feed himself from. He pulled away in order that he might better himself and he used his experiences and insight to write amazing books and poetry. As he puts it:

Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.

I think there is a specific style of Vagabond that very much resembles Thoreau with regards to their beliefs and the way they live their lives. Therefore, I call this kind of vagabond a Thoreau Vagabond.

About Them

The Thoreau Vagabond likes solitude, silence, peace, and simplicity. They seek retreat from both people and social norms. They are drawn to experiences which allow them to be alone with their thoughts, where they may ponder life and reflect on themselves. Many Vagabonds like solitude. But the Thoreau Vagabond takes this to an extreme. This type of Vagabond may believe that he or she could live their entire lives without seeing a single person and not miss them much at all—if at all. They may pull away into the shell of a remote destination for long periods of time or even forever.

They are often writers or philosophers. They are very industrious, as they must learn how to deal with a vast array of human experiences with no one but themselves to rely on. This means health, food, hygiene, shelter, and entertainment must all be supplied by the Vagabond as an individual without help from a community of experts (no doctors, supermarkets, laundry machines, pre-made houses, or television). You can then reason that this type of Vagabond is staunchly self-reliant, independent, and brave.

Often their ideas are unique, as they are able to create their opinions, views, and beliefs without being influenced by masses and popular culture. Don’t be surprised upon meeting this type of Vagabond if they have no clue who Kim Kardashian is and, more importantly, don’t really care. However, they may know a thing or two about history that you don’t, because they tend to like books. I’ve known a few of these types. They abhor being tracked, so any form of identification would be against their nature (meaning driver’s licenses are out). They are also some of the most unusual characters, because they develop their personalities mostly in isolation, so they have very little idea what it means to conform to a social norm, for they aren’t fully aware of what the social norms are—again, they don’t really care, either.

If you think a Thoreau Vagabond just needs a little coaxing and some social practice, then perhaps they could quote Thoreau again in response:

Most men lead lives of silent desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.

I am putting Transients first because they may be the heart and soul of what a typical vagabond is fabled to look like. When a person says ‘vagabond’ these might be the first people who come to mind. No matter what kind of wanderer you are, likely you can “feel” this group, understand its core fabric, and appreciate the level of extremism they are willing to live in so that they can live the life on the road—and on their own terms.

Strong personalities abound in these groups. I have personally migrated with transients and camped out with them in various cities in different countries. I was never a full-blooded transient, but I do have a first-hand understanding of this kind of vagabond.

About Them

Definition of TRANSIENT (Merriam-Webster)

1

: passing especially quickly into and out of existence :transitory <transient beauty>

: passing through or by a place with only a brief stay or sojourn <transient visitors>

Transients are what happen when the fringe of society becomes so distant from the main social groups that they just plain fall of the map entirely—but in groups. Transients usually travel in packs. They are not “homeless people.” Some call themselves “residentially challenged” in jest, but what they really mean is that they don’t WANT to live in society the way most people do. Their lifestyle represents a rigid fortitude to manifest their own destiny within the confounds of what they deem valuable in life.

They are often self-educated, well-read individuals who are very capable of participating in society like any average person—yet choose not to. To really give a description that might ring a bell: they are those “punk” looking people with the dreadlocks and pit bulls roaming around at all hours (at least the average person would unknowingly label them punks). These Vagabonds move a lot, but may stay for a certain period of time in certain locations. They follow a life pattern similar to our hunter-gatherer ancestors, actually, and one might argue that they’ve managed to remain pure in a constantly changing social landscape.

These people usually know the best and safest places to camp out, and they’ll gladly sleep there with or without a tent. They usually have a vast network of contacts in all walks of life across many cities, states, or even countries. They fluently enter and exit mainstream society, meaning that they may sleep in the woods but wander into town to buy beans for their open campfire back where the clan is waiting.

They look out for one another, are often humanists with a strong sense of kin with their fellow man (and animal), and are not unknown to have hidden talents under all that unassuming exterior. I mean that person with the green mohawk walking with that muscular dog could be a concert trained pianist or have a university degree—seriously. At the very least, they have a Diploma in Life Experiences that most people know nothing about.

If you’d like to live amongst them or spend time with them, leave your pretention at the door, but feel free to unload your quirks. They are usually very resilient to displays of originality and genuine character, unlike the folks back at the office.

Plain like these clothes. You and I. No more. No home. None the less. More so, But when we fall! Oh the glory — the vanity! Cheers flow. Crowds crawl. Babies brawl! Insanity — Pornography – Make war! — watching us fall. At the edge of one day, we will go back, and vanish no more but where? Homesick, — Robert! Maybe not willingly. Sad. Broken. Nevertheless. In tears. In plain. And perhaps, in Vain? Vagabond, you and I We will find -a- home one day.

Over the next few days, I will dedicate posts to types of Vagabonds. I am not trying to put our kind into boxes and label us, but rather to show what a range of lifestyles can be imbued into the character of a person who loves to travel. This is mostly for fun. I am excited about the idea of looking at vagabonds through a range of potential meanings, rather than assuming that we are all the same. Definitely, we’re not. In my own travels, I have met so many other travelers. I noticed that often we shared a love of the road, but there are ways in which I came to understand differences in orientation from one vagabond to the next. There are trends…

I must confess, I haven’t read it yet. I just stumbled upon this book online, and it’s one of those books that go on the “must read” list immediately. I wanted to buzz it up and ask for reviews from people who perhaps have read it.

After I read it, I’ll be coming back here to write up a formal tell-all analysis in vagabond style.

Here is a description of the book, quoted from the author’s own website:

Have you ever dreamed of chucking it all, packing your bags, and heading out into the wild, wild blue yonder? Well, I did just that! I walked away from my career as an educator, sold 99% of my personal belongings and began traveling the world. Six years later, I am still at it! This book tells the story of how I have lived in Malta, Prague, Spain, England, Ireland, the tiny isle of Saba, and more for up to ninety day stretches, moving from country to country as an international house sitter. I have even lived on a 57-foot boat in a marina in Baja California. This book is a testament to living life on my own terms. It explains a different way of looking at time, money, and travel. I am living proof that you do not have to be rich to discover your own creative path to freedom!

Before we talk about where Matt is, let’s review why he’s so damn special. I’ll quote Matt for that one:

Matt is a 35-year-old deadbeat from Connecticut who used to think that all he ever wanted to do in life was make and play videogames.

That’s from his website. He sounds awesome, right? Oh, you didn’t catch the awesomeness in that quote? Okay, let’s try again with another quote:

Matt has a little piece of extra cartilage sticking out on the rim of one ear and a little hole in the same place on the other ear.

Did you catch his Super Vagabond traits yet?

Well, Matt gets paid to travel the ENTIRE world with his girlfriend…doing nothing but dancing with village children and monks for about 30 seconds. I am so serious. He is even a new father, so now this dude has true love, a family, and the ultimate vagabond lifestyle.

I haven’t posted anything on here in so long. I was recently involved in a torrent love affair with an “exotic” man who I now am sure was a sociopath (seriously). I neglected most of my passions over the past few months as a result and am only now getting back into the swing of things. This post is still about being a vagabond, but with a twist.

It’s about where we came from, not where we are going.

A vagabond is always moving, full of experiences but empty of assumptions upon entering a foreign land (our experiences taught us better). Vagabonds move constantly. We embrace change. We understand that nothing (nearly) is permanent. We can surf the tide of an uncertain journey with tenacious grace. We can get by with or without public toilets, ATM machines, knowledge of the local language, itinerary, razors, and tourist guides. We are free spirits, ever new and ever evolving with a fluent horizon of various colors.

But make no mistake. We came from somewhere. A vagabond carries inside herself or himself a vast array of cultures and experiences accumulated over the years. And do not underestimate the way this effects a person’s character. Their quality of spirit. Their fortitude of heart. To those potholes in the road, like the one I stumbled in in Istanbul, Turkey, I want to remind the wretched holes and my fellow vagabonds that these are the times when our journey is teaching us what we set out to learn: the hard truths of life. These are the experiences that mold us into magnificently unique and able creatures.

When you face the most tormenting of challenges during your adventure, do what vagabonds do best: move on. Throw it behind you like a stepping stone. Extract its meaning and power, master its lesson, and then become a greater animal because of it. WE SET OUT seeking these lessons. WE ARE DRIVEN by our need to know more about existence, the world, and ourselves. WE REACH FOR dark corners and light expanses in one breath, so when that moment comes that you find yourself in a conundrum of challenge, thank your lucky stars, for you’ve encountered one of the great teachers on your quest for personal revolution.

My great teacher was a lying, manipulative, abusive sociopath. This teacher attempted to erase all I am and ever was and turn me into nothing but a stone in his collection of dead and motionless furniture. But, one of my heroines from Game of Thrones had a great response to her late husband’s second in command, as he tells her that when her husband, the king, dies, she will be nothing and everyone will turn on her. She replied, “I can never be nothing. I am the blood of the dragon.” (By the way, if you haven’t seen Game of Thrones, you seriously need to get on it. Now!)

When I look back to where I came from, I remember days and days of lessons, experiences, stepping stones, accomplishments, challenges, glimpses of paradise, intellectual standing ovations, and mistakes too. From all this, I come. Full to the brim with an evolutionary being, I come. Brazen with a deep sea of perspective that has seen various people across various lands with various beliefs and systems and hopes and dreams and nightmares and anguish. I see through the spectacles of wisdom that can only be gained when one is bold enough to let go of their pride and become a humble student of life.

Something a sociopath can never be. (This is a fact. Sociopaths, due to their lack of conscience, are unable to learn from mistakes, and therefore never get the chance to grow. There’s a lot of literature and research on this topic. Those born blind will never see.)

So, this I say to the sociopath. You didn’t kill me, though you tried, even if through your vicious teeth you often threatened. You didn’t conquer me. You didn’t end me. Every facet of agony you drug my soul through was but a long novel, its pages overflowing with rich, vivacious wisdom. Not because you were wise. Don’t get me wrong. But your torture reminded me with valiant assertion that you cannot DESTROY something IMMORTAL, for THAT is what the PAST is. That is where I CAME from, and it stands like the beautiful old dome across the cobble stone path from me at this moment.

I sit huddled over my laptop, as usual, in a quaint cafe in an historical German city. Across from me is what I currently believe to be the most beautiful piece of architecture that I have ever seen in my life. And behind me is my story.

So, vagabonds, as important as it is to keep looking ahead to the new landscapes of where we are going, perhaps today, upon reading this clip of words I’ve launched into cyber-space, you will be inspired to look behind yourself and remember where you came from.